


Distraction

by Anonymous



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Desperation, F/F, Lesbian Disaster Gideon, Lesbian Sex, Masturbation, Omorashi, Squirting, Useless Lesbians, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism, Wetting, forgive me john for i have sinned, mild watersports, pee desperation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:15:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27116660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "Rationally, Gideon could have taken a piss before starting her workout, right when they got back, and really, she had been planning to...but once she and Harrow had gotten back to their quarters, Harrow sat at a little desk and poured over her notes, and it had distracted Gideon so much that she forgot entirely about her bladder situation."In which Gideon forgets to pee before a workout and discovers Harrow has a dark, secret fetish.
Relationships: Gideon Nav & Harrowhark Nonagesimus, Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus
Comments: 2
Kudos: 58
Collections: Anonymous Fics





	Distraction

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't originally going to write this, but there's an audience for everything, right?

Gideon was in her fourth rep of crunches when the cramps began to hit her.

She knew she should have relieved herself before she started her workout. After all, she usually did. But since she and Harrow had gotten up that morning, it had been nonstop chaos. Gideon didn’t have time to pee before she left their quarters; Harrow  _ insisted _ they meet with Palamedes first thing. The two of them daintily sipped coffee and talked about theorems while Camilla showed some cool daggers to Gideon. Gideon ate enough for two of her, and drank enough for three, but with no bathroom breaks, she was already beginning to feel the strain. Afterward, Harrow went through some old records as Gideon began to squirm. 

Rationally, Gideon  _ could have _ taken a piss before starting her workout, right when they got back, and really, she had been planning to...but once she and Harrow had gotten back to their quarters, Harrow sat at a little desk and poured over her notes, and it had distracted Gideon so much that she forgot entirely about her bladder situation.

Harrow was just so... _ cute _ . And hot. In an elfish, pointy, demonic sort of way. If pointy demon elves could be hot. Gideon wasn’t sure what her type was anymore, to be quite honest, but she must’ve sunken to a new low if Harrowhark Nonagesimus was appealing to her.

Gideon wasn’t sure why she was so transfixed by her glare as she stared down her hastily-scribbled theorems, or why she desperately wanted to kiss her lips when the corners turned down in thought, or curled up when she figured something out and began writing hastily. In fact, Gideon thought she was so adorable and pouty in that oversized cloak of hers as she studied that Gideon did nothing but stare through all of her reps.

Until now.

Gideon grunted and fell flat on her back, and Harrow immediately turned, looking alarmed for a second. Her face was bare of paint; they had hurried to the Sixth’s quarters so quickly that she hadn’t put any on. It must’ve been a rather dire theorem for Harrow to show her bare face anywhere, especially to Palamedes. Still, Gideon was grateful to see this much of Harrow. Her eyebrows were raised in concern, almond-shaped eyes wide.

“Are you alright?”

Laying down was  _ not _ helping her desperation. She sat up, but that put pressure on her crotch, which helped even less. So she stood. “Just have to pee.”

A blush creeped on her cheeks. “Oh.” Her voice was a bit faint, almost shaky. “Okay then. You should do that.”

When Harrow turned, Gideon noticed that her neck and ears were a bit red. Harrow had propped her chin on her hand as she looked back at her notes, but Gideon could tell she wasn’t reading. Harrow had shuffled a little, bringing her legs crisscross on the chair instead of curling them around the chair’s legs. 

Gideon had seen Harrow act like this before a few times, in those nights they refused to speak about due to, as Harrow claimed, “the taboos of cav and necro relations.”

Harrow was  _ aroused. _

“Harrow,” Gideon began. She wasn’t trying to smirk, honestly, but the entire idea of Harrow blushing was just so damn amusing. “Do you need to tell me something?”

“Absolutely not!” Harrow responded, voice sharp.

“You’re blushing.”

“Am not!”

“You’re not wearing paint, my crepuscular queen. I can see your flush.”

“...So?”

“So? Why are you blushing?” Gideon let her voice take a teasing lilt as she wobbled over to Harrow. She placed her hands on her shoulders, and Harrow flinched for a second. “Does this...turn you on?”

Standing was a mistake, and gravity almost betrayed Gideon for a moment, so she crossed her legs.

Harrow turned her head to look at her and bit her lip. “Don’t be crass,” she replied, voice cracking. 

“Holy shit,” Gideon exhaled. “You’re totally into this.”

Harrow frowned, but the flush remained. “I didn’t say that.”

Standing was hard, but standing still, even with her legs crossed, was even more difficult. Gideon began to wiggle in place. A whimper escaped her lips. As fun as it was watching Harrow squirm, she really needed to do something about this.

Harrow turned in her chair, peeking over its back with clenched fists clinging to the top like some sort of spying gargoyle. She sat on her feet, as she often did, but Gideon noticed her heels were pressed to a rather sensitive area. 

“But your body says that. And we know I know your body,” Gideon added with a wink.

Harrow flushed scarlet and opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

Gideon was starting to sweat. She wondered, in the part of her mind that wasn’t distracted by Harrow’s blown pupils and unsteady breathing, if she could pee out of her skin. It sure felt like that was happening.

“No offense,” Gideon said finally, wiggling in place, “but I need you to tell me what I should do because I’m legitimately about to piss myself.”

Harrow’s mouth hung open for a moment. “Are...are you sure?”

“I’m your sword, my midnight hagette. I’m your body, your cavalier, to use in any way you see fit.. One flesh, one end, right?” She wiggled more desperately. She could feel a small droplet betray her efforts, and she cursed under her breath, which made Harrow’s eyes widen even more. Gideon dropped a preventative hand to her crotch, as if it would hold the floodgates--literally. “If there’s something I’m doing that turns you on...necromancer taboos be damned, I’m doing it.”

Harrow chewed her lip thoughtfully, her eyes wandering Gideon’s hand. “Take off your clothes,” Harrow said finally.

“What?”

Harrow sighed and rolled her eyes. “As much as I’d like to watch you ruin them..I’ll have to take your clothes to the laundry room on the main floor, and I don’t want to have to answer to anyone about why they reek like piss. And,” her voice dropped to a touch above a whisper, “I like to watch.”

“Like to...wait, watch? Is this something you’ve done before?”

“Griddle…”

“Have you watched me?”

“No! No, nothing like that! I’ve never actually watched  _ anyone _ before, okay? It’s just…” Harrow was truly whispering now, as though she feared someone from another House were listening in on their conversation. “You’re not the only one with...carnal interests or pornographic materials.”

If Gideon had been a skeleton instead of a desperate lesbian who wore skeletal paint, her jaw would’ve fallen to the floor. “ _ Harrowhark Nonagesimus!  _ You jerk off to _ skin mags?” _

Despite the cramping, the sweating, and the stream threatening to escape her slit, Gideon decided this was the most wonderful day of her life. Harrow masturbating was something she had definitely considered, even before their talk in the pool--hey, it wasn’t like Gideon had a lot of options in Drearburh--but due to her butt-touched nun attitude and chastising of Gideon’s impeccable literature, she figured Harrow had never taken the stick out of her ass long enough to fuck herself with it.

“How did you think you gained access to all your,” Harrow paused to clear her throat, “ _ literature _ ? I controlled what came in and out of Drearburh. I saw the...filth...you read. I  _ allowed _ it.”

“That means you read it,” Gideon realized. “You read my skin mags!”

Harrow let go of the chair and buried her blushing face in her hands. “I did. Some are...quite nasty. And it...inspired me.” She was doing the thing Gideon used to think was super annoying, but was now rather endearing, where she paused to take a breath between words out of anxiety. “I ended up looking into more and more... _ niche _ works, I suppose you would say.”

“It’s sure pretty niche,” Gideon agreed. “What are your favorites? Shit, maybe I need to expand on my reading material.”

“Griddle!”

“Sorry! I’m just, like. Really open minded, I guess? Especially for you.”

Harrow’s expression softened a bit, but she didn’t divulge any information.

“Well, what happened in them? What did you like to see?”

Harrow swallowed and sat up on her feet a little more. “Your clothes are still on.”

“Right, right.” Gideon took a deep breath and uncrossed her legs. Her core pulsed with need, and she began to wonder if this was why Harrow had such a fetish. The pressure of her full bladder hit right against the very spot she liked to fondle on her own, and it made her walls clench on emptiness. A shaky moan escaped her as she unfastened her pants and dropped them with her boxers to the floor.

Harrow was grinding against her heels, lips pressed into a thin line as she watched intently. “All of them.”

“My shirt, too?”

Harrow nodded, and who was Gideon to deny her necromancer? She gripped the hem of her shirt and pulled it upwards, tossing it in the pile with her pants. Her sports bra followed suit. She might’ve flexed a little. A lot a little.

Harrow was practically drooling.

“Now what do I do?” Gideon asked. She looked down at herself and noticed a swell where her abs normally were. She put her hand over it, and noticed it was rather squishy. 

The push was a mistake; a small squirt left her, and Harrow legitimately  _ gasped _ .

“Wow, okay,” Gideon said. She wanted to sound sexy and confident, like the dashing, seductive Cohort members in her comics, but her voice came out kinda shaky, as though talking too loudly would make her wet herself. “So whenever I joked about nuns being secretly super kinky…”

“Griddle…” Harrow’s warning tone took a higher, almost needy lilt.

“...I guess I was right?”

“Griddle, I swear…”

“Seriously, what do you want me to do?”

“Uncross your legs.”

Gideon whimpered and did so. Instinctively, she brought her hand to her crotch, but earned a warning glare from Harrow and instantly dropped it.

“So I just stand there?”

“Yes.”

“Grinding on your heels can’t be comfortable, my unholy overlord. You can, like. Touch yourself. If you want.”

Harrow froze in place, looking everywhere in the room except at Gideon. But as soon as they left, those dark eyes of hers met Gideon’s again, then trailed up and down her body. “Do you want me to?”

“You look like you want to.”

“Griddle, you’re doing something...absolutely  _ depraved _ . For  _ me _ . Would it...would you enjoy it if I…”

“What, jerked off? Abso-fucking-lutely.”

“Stay where you are. Don’t...let go yet.”

“When can I?”

“When I tell you.”

Gideon shivered. This was never a scenario she pictured when she imagined fucking Harrowhark Nonagesimus. When she first thought of it (which, really, she wholeheartedly blamed  _ Naughty Nuns of the Ninth _ for even bringing the thought to her mind, all those years ago), she figured they’d have passionate hate sex, with Harrow stepping on her and such. Later on, after she began to see the more vulnerable side of Harrow, she pictured making tender love to her in the four-poster of the Ninth quarters. That did happen, right after the night in the pool and every night since, but she had discovered Harrow was much more in between both of those concepts than she bargained for. She was bossy, demanding, and loud, with a passion Gideon had never quite accounted for--just how much anger lived in that little body?--regardless of whether or not she was on top.

And now, Gideon added to her mental list of Sexual Things That Comprised of Harrow, she was also kinky as  _ hell. _

Harrow turned her chair around and, while she was standing, shucked off her tights and panties in one fell swoop. It left a sort of flowy--dress? Shirt? Cloak? Gideon wasn’t sure what it was, but it was loose-fitting and fell to her knees in some places and to her hips in others.

“You should take that off, too,” Gideon offered. She was swaying side to side a little, just to keep from losing control preemptively. 

Harrow hesitated, then removed her top, revealing a black lacy bralette which, after a moment of hesitation, was discarded as well. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Gideon sighed, instinctively bringing a hand to her crotch. Would masturbating while full of piss even feel good? With the pressure from the outside, she figured it would be nice.

She never got to find out, though, because Harrow glared at her.

Right. No hands. Gideon linked her hands behind her back to fight the temptation and leaned slightly to the side, pressing her mound against a muscular thigh. It was enough pressure to hold it for now.

Harrow sat on the chair and brought her knees up. “How do you want to see this?” she asked. Harrow seemed shy suddenly, which Gideon thought was rich, given what was already happening.

“Spread them,” Gideon said. Moistening her lips for a second, she added, “I want to watch your fingers go inside you.”

They had only slept together a handful of times, but Gideon already knew what Harrow preferred--internal poundings of the rough and relentless variety. Gideon was always more than happy to deliver (though she was worried she’d tear Harrow in half the first time, due to their size difference, but it turned out vaginas were much more durable than Gideon thought). 

Harrow swallowed and spread her feet first, then her knees, revealing that delicate spot Gideon had grown to love so much. It was a bit raised, but small, with only a little bit of pink in the middle. She also learned that Harrow shaved--not because she anticipated sex, she clarified, but out of comfort. Granted, Gideon did the same thing, so she couldn’t argue with that.

Harrow traced her finger up and down her slit at first, and her labia began to bloom and glisten at the ministrations. Gideon’s breath caught somewhere in her throat, and for a moment, she forgot about her desperation and the situation at hand.

Then a droplet fell, and Gideon was rudely reminded.

“Shit!” Gideon brought her knees together instinctively. A little more fell out of her, but she could blame gravity, right?

Harrow seemed too transfixed to give orders. Two fingers already dove inside her, and her lips were parted in a half-gasp, half-moan. 

“So I just keep standing here?” Gideon asked finally once she found her voice. It was huskier than she remembered speaking. The things this necromancer did to her.

“You can... _ ahh _ ...let a little out.  _ Mmm.. _ just a little,” Harrow said. She was alternating between open-mouthed gasps and biting her lip, as though she wasn’t sure if she were allowed to use her voice.

“Yes, my queen of the night.”

When Harrow didn’t roll her eyes and instead bored them to Gideon’s mound, she realized she was serious. With a half-suppressed sob, Gideon released a small squirt.

It felt...amazing, if Gideon was quite honest. She wanted to keep going, but she realized her bladder wouldn’t clench itself, so she squeezed her legs together in vain. Only a little more escaped, but she won this battle.

Harrow, meanwhile, had picked up quite the pace. Had she blinked? Gideon wasn’t sure, but she didn’t really care, either. She never imagined she would be the object of Harrow’s affection in the first place, let alone the  _ reason she was masturbating _ .

Some creamy fluid was spilling from the sides of Harrow’s hand, and with a blush, Gideon realized just to what extent Harrow  _ loved _ this.

“You kinky little nun,” Gideon managed, because she could never keep her damn mouth shut.

Harrow didn’t chastise her. She actually  _ smiled _ \--a rarity. Those sharp teeth of hers glistened in the low light of the Ninth quarters, and Gideon found herself smiling back.

She felt vibration against her clit, and it took a moment to realize that, in her distraction, Gideon had let go a little more. Harrow actually  _ moaned _ at the sight, with a little curse under her breath for good measure.

“Damn,” Gideon sighed as she held a hand over herself, “you really  _ do _ like this.” Some more of her piss escaped herself, spilling into her hand, but with the other fluid leftover of watching Harrow, it made somewhat of a good lubricant. Still, the flood stopped, but Harrow seemed to enjoy watching Gideon touch herself with how her cheeks darkened.

“You can...I’m…” Harrow was clearly struggling to make complete sentences, or any sort of coherent thought. She was fucking herself with quite the force, curling her fingers forward. Her lip found its way between her teeth, and her lids were heavy.

Gideon didn’t need to be told twice. The minute she removed her hand, the floodgates were opened. “Oh,  _ fuuuck _ ,” Gideon moaned as the mess spilled down her legs, pattering onto the hardwood floors. A little got on her feet, so she spread her legs more, and that was when Harrow came undone.

She threw her head back, hitting it against the back of the chair, and spasmed, her feet sliding down with the sheer force of her orgasm. Her own clear-and-white fluids spilled from her as her walls clenched around her fingers, and Gideon gasped at the sight.

If someone told her a few years ago she’d have a hot, petite goth girlfriend who was also a squirter, she’d think they were lying. If they added that this hot, petite goth girlfriend who was also a squirter was  _ Harrowhark Nonagesimus _ , she probably would’ve punched them. But as the fluids fell from her body and Gideon watched her necromancer, her love, her reason for existing coming undone on that rickety old chair, she was in bliss, so thankful for whatever gods were looking out for her that this was now her life.

As Harrow began to catch her breath and slow down her fingers, Gideon realized that her flow had no sign of stopping. It was just as thick and as heavy as it was when she had first released, and the more that came out, the better it felt. Her legs shook with the sheer force of it. She reached back to hang onto the wall, suddenly unable to maintain her balance. 

Harrow, on equally shaky legs, left the chair (with an impressive puddle both on the seat and on the floor, Gideon realized with awe) and stepped forward. She didn’t seem to mind the river of Gideon’s piss on the hardwood and in fact walked through it, stepping closer to Gideon.

Her hand met the stream. That was kinda hot, actually, Gideon decided. Gideon wasn’t entirely sure what Harrow was planning next--how far did her kinks go? She probably already licked bones. Did she drink pee, too?

Apparently, she didn’t, for her mouth went nowhere near there. Instead, she ran a finger over the stream and onto her clit.

Gideon almost combusted on the spot. With the combination of the pressure her bladder left on that sweet spot to the tingling of the stream against her clit, it was almost too much.

Harrow stared down at her hand and the trickling stream leaving rivulets down her hand and arm. Giving Gideon a mischievous grin that Gideon had previously--and wrongly--assumed was left for bone magic, she swirled her finger around her clit. It was gentle at first, as though she recognized Gideon was already overstimulated. But like Harrowhark herself, it didn’t last long and became quite intense almost immediately. Everything about Harrow was sharp, powerful, and passionate, and sex with Harrow was no exception.

Gideon leaned forward and gripped onto Harrow’s hair, clenching the close-cropped raven-colored locks as tightly as she could. Her eyelids slammed shut and--was that her shouting? Gideon felt as though she had left her body again as her orgasm ripped from her chest. Her walls pulsed, desperate to cling onto something, but she remained empty. She could hear a faint chuckle from Harrow beneath her, but it didn’t fully register until her orgasm ebbed. 

The stream waned to nothing, and Harrow slowed down on her attention. For a long, loud moment, neither of them spoke.

Eyes downcast, Harrow murmured, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Harrow.” Gideon didn’t usually use her name, usually some cheesy nickname, and using it got her attention immediately. “I am your cavalier, your flesh. I’ll do...anything for you.”

She pursed her lips in thought. “I know.”

“So, like, wetting myself for you wasn’t the craziest thing we’ve done, anyway.”

She finally looked up. A pink flush still lingered on her cheeks. “I...suppose not.”

“You maddening necromancer.” Gideon held her small face in her hands, and a smile curled at the edges of Harrow’s mouth. She met them with a kiss then--one on each corner, which made her giggle a little, then one in the center. She met her lips with a searing passion, as though she were to devour her soul from her lips, and when they pulled apart, it took Gideon a moment to remember how to breathe.

“We should. Um. Clean this up,” Harrow said finally.

“I can help,” Gideon said. “It’s my mess, after all.”

“I’ll get the cleaner.” Harrow stepped over to the loose fabric she was wearing before and quickly slid into it, with no panties or bra or anything, and crept out of their quarters. “Be right back,” she called.

Gideon leaned against the wall and sunk to the soaked floor, holding her dizzy head in her hands. And she laughed.

She couldn’t wait to find out what other sorts of kinky surprises Harrow had been hiding from her.


End file.
